Dear Rene
by SensuallyPassionate
Summary: After going beyond the normal boundaries of their relationship, Kyouya and Tamaki have ventured much past being close friends, but lovers. However, Kyouya is struggling to not only cope with the fact that he loves his best-friend, but is homosexual. In turn, Kyouya begins to show a much darker side and a glimpse into his estranged psyche.
1. Chapter 1

_**Prologue:**  
_

_Crash. _Another vase broken; another mind wasted. She grips the sheets as I thrust deeply into her already swollen sex. _Bang. _The headboard knocks wildly against the adjacent wall, scuffing and marring the freshly stroked layer of paint the help had done hours prior. _Thump. _I quickly shift positions and have her on top. She begins to buck madly against my pelvis, panting. Amateur. Grasping her hips I guide her along, shoving her down harder every moment our bodies intertwine. _Snap. _Her manicured nails claw into my skin, scratching away into my flesh. Blood in drawn as she pierces deeper, nearing. _Shit_. She screams my name, arching her back and holding her breasts. I close my eyes and silently release, my hands digging into her hips; bruising. She collapses atop of my sweaty torso and begins to snuggle deep into my neck. Stray strands of brunette suddenly turn blonde. _Hate._ I push her off me and move myself to the side of the bed, grabbing my glasses, retrieving my boxers. She begins to delicately stroke the contours of my spine, cooing. She begins to speak but I silence her. _Regret. _My job is done. She can leave now.

"Um…Kyouya-kun, I know you just wanted to be quiet for a minute but may we just-"

"Didn't I just ask you to shut up?"

Silence. I breath lowly, standing to grab my shirt and my jeans. Where were my shoes?

"Why are you so mean?" She sat up slowly, using the thin top-sheet of my bed spread to cover her nudity. I have already seen her body. "During host hours, you are normally smiling and very…"

"Kind?" I answer for her. I slipped one foot into my forgotten sneaker, then the other. Walking over to the night stand, I press a small red button. My bedroom door loudly creaks open. _Reality_

"You rang, master Kyouya?"

"See to it Miss. Hanizowa gets home safely." I stuff my hands into my pockets and begin to walk out. "Clean up the mess."

"Yes sir."

I flip through my phone for the number I desperately wanted to call. I felt like vomiting as the ringing seemed to go on for what seemed like eternity. Was it really that easy?

"Moshi, Moshi?"

Silence. I stared at the illuminated screen and mentally began to say what I really wanted; words my tongue would never let me speak. _Shit_

"Ne, Kyouya, if you are going to call me at least have the decency to speak."

Again, silence. There was a loud sigh. _Annoyed_. Things weren't the same since that night.

"Well?"

"I expected your voicemail again, Suoh-san."

He gruffed. "Are we using honorifics now, Ootori-kun? I thought we were passed that."

"It's only appropriate considering the position our…mutual relationship is in."

Another gruff. "Ne, Ootori-kun, why even call me if you are going to keep doing this to me…to _us_?

_Us. "_Goodnight, Suoh-san."

"Nani!" his voice was pleading. There was a pregnant pause. Words and phrases that wanted to be spoken; needed to be heard. He gulped loudly. "Kyouya…Are you free tonight?"

"Tomorrow."

"After club?"'

"Cancel it."

Surprisingly, there was no objection. Just "alright". Another pause. I spoke. "Meet me by my car."

"…Ok…" Silence. I ventured into the kitchen and poured a glass of wine. Swirling the glass, I glanced at my reflection. _Crack. _

"I am hanging up now."

"…No…please, just…a minute longer."

My lips touched the brim of my glass. The cool liquid rushed down my dry throat. Reaching for the forgotten bottle, I poured another. "What is it, Suoh-san?"

"Stop calling me that!" his voice cracked. Thunder followed behind. There was a storm approaching. "Why do you do this?"

I remained silent. I downed my second glass in a matter of seconds and began drinking from the bottle itself. I needed something stronger but the wine would have to do. "Tamaki…"

"Did you mean anything you said to me that night?" Silent tears were beginning to stream down his face. His heart was breaking. Another crack of thunder, this time in a symphony of rain drops that banged against the kitchen sun roof. "Anything at all?"

"Yes."

"What part?" His voice was desperate for an answer.

"Where we go our separate ways."

_Click_. Tamaki had hung up and I laid my phone to rest upon the countertop. I took another sip from the wine bottle and looked for something stronger in the liquor cabinet my father had reserved for only when he was entertaining guests. I grabbed a bottle of Vodka. _Boom._ There was another clap of thunder. The rain was picking up speed and intensity. I flicked off the kitchen lights. I began to lie on the cool tile. I swallowed half the bottle of vodka my first go. My throat began to burn.

"Rene…"

_I really hate this part right here. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Dancing Lights, "Oh you Naughty Boy!"**

Jadedly, I watched every movement the windshield wipers made. I had put them on full-speed in an effort to keep my windshield in somewhat of a drivable condition but the rain was much too quick for them. Hard droplets of water would come crashing down, one after another and create an orchestrated tempo of pitter-pattering; dark, ominous clouds hovering above crackling thunder and lightening whenever they befitted. I should have had my driver take me to school today instead of driving. I really detested driving in the rain, especially a rain storm. I turned up the volume to my stereo system and let my seat back. I liked the song playing: _"Live My Life"_ by Far East Movement. I allowed myself to become entranced by the hypnotic Technicolor vibrations of artificial bass and percussions. I reached for my hidden bottle of vodka behind the passenger side, blindly opening the bottle and taking a long…smooth…sip.

My thoughts began to drift towards _him_. No matter what I would do, there was no escaping the replaying memory of that night. We danced to this song at some underground commoner club in some last-minute effort to kill boredom and find mischief to get into. It was just the two of us, drinking limitless amounts of sake and gin, grinding against faceless women, snaking our hands up their skirts and into their panties, allowing flashing neon-lights to percolate every inch of sweaty, pale skin. I don't remember how, but I managed to find myself against the brick wall of the back of the club getting sucked off by the red-head I amused myself for a lengthy amount of time I was there. I was too intoxicated to fully comprehend anything but surely did not give two shits or a damn. I remember palming a grip of her locks and thrusting my cock deep down her throat. She began to gag as I covered the back of her throat. I remember feeling her satisfied eyes creep up to mind. I remained silent and allowed her to begin nibbling at remnants of my semen, gliding her tongue up and down along my shaft, palming my sack. There were eyes watching.

I felt hands begin to palm my chest and start to unbutton my shirt. My brown eyes fluttered open and met violet, lustful ones. Lip crashed against mine, tongues becoming intertwined. Clawing commenced against my neck, sucking began once again. I managed to open my mouth to speak but words did not come out. The bass from the speakers silenced me. _"She can't please you like I can."_ That was not a song lyric. "_Dirty Bass"._

_Nostalgia. _

I heard my car door open and shut shortly after. I no longer could hear the rain but "_Dirty Bass."_ It was loud, drowning. I never once opened my eyes, using my arm as a makeshift sleep-mask as it rested against my forehead. I knew who was next to me. After a few moments, I felt hands run against my thigh and settle against the growing bulge against my jeans. _"I love that dirty bass…" _My zipper was pulled down and cool, wet hands reached into boxers and gently retrieved my aching member. A soft lick was placed against my tip, tongue swirling around in pre-cum. _"Dip low when I feel loco, don't trip, like a low-low…"_

Fully engulfed now, hard sucking. My hands instinctively find the mane of hair and palm soft, luscious, wet locks. Head started to bob against my pelvis, music grows louder. _"Dirty Bass" _I guided with my hand and encouraged it to go deeper. I discovered I had a fetish for deep-throat oral sex. Small gagging but quickly accommodates. _"I love that dirty bass"_ I arch my back, mouth leaving me as a small hand becomes wrapped around my shaft. _Flashing lights. _Several streams are released onto an awaiting face. _"I love that dirty bass"_

The music stops and switches onto a track from Yo-Yo Ma's latest collection. I finally open my eyes and position my set upright, handing Hikaru a tissue from the glove compartment. He silently cleans his face, never once looking at me. I silently give him my forgotten bottle of vodka, shaky hands grasping it desperately as he takes a small sip. He makes a face of repugnance.

"You get used to it." was my only reply. I took out a cigarette out of pocket and used an abandoned lighter I found in my ashtray to ignite it. I offered Hikaru one but he declined.

"Kyouya-senpai, am I…going to hell?"

"In a hand-basket." I took a small drag, exhaling against the rain.

He grew silent. "Are…you?" I looked at him through the corner of my eye. Another go. Exhale. A hard slap across his face, he now looking outside and clenching his burning cheek. _Shit._ Small silence. "Gomenasi." He whispered.

"You better leave before Tamaki gets here. I don't want him seeing you and me together."

"Is Karou with him by any chance?"

"More than likely." I defused my cigarette against my denim pant leg. "You fuck him yet?"

His eyes grew wide. "N-No…But I yearn to…he is my brother Kyouya-senpai." He looked at me. "Why do I feel this way towards my mirror-image? What is wrong with me?"

I remained emotionless. "Do I look like a therapist to you, Hikaru?"

He swallowed. "Is there something wrong with you…? You have those same feelings I have for Karou for Tamaki-senpai."

My fists clenched. "Get out." My palms were sweaty and my pulse heightened. I watched Hikaru's eyes fill with fear as he managed to get the car door open.

"Is it alright if I…call you tonight?"

It took me a moment to respond but I nodded and he shut the door. Where was my vodka? My phone vibrated.

_**I am sorry if I angered you. If you want I can make it up to you tonight. –Hikaru**_

I replied with a set time for him to come by. I threw my phone in the passenger seat and watched it fade off.

I sighed. It vibrated again. _Fuck._

_**Meet me at the bistro around the corner from the school- Rene**_

I growled and put the Mercedes in gear, driving for five minutes to meet a drenched Tamaki waiting for me outside of a closed sandwich shop. His uniform was entirely soaked from the rain and he was shivering. _Baka. _

He opened the door and got in. Silence.

I sighed. "You are going to soil my leather seats."

He rolled his eyes and let his seat back. "Kyouya-kun, is that all you are worried about?"

"And the fact that I will have to get my entire interior cleaned to prevent the smell of mildew."

He looked at me, violet eyes partially blinded by wet locks of hair. I felt a familiar sensation. "It smells like sex in here."

The woman I had in my backseat earlier was to blame for that. I really did need to clean my car. "What did you want to talk about, Tamaki?"

"You know exactly what it is I wanted to talk about." He snapped, sitting up and inching his face towards mine. "…About that night…"

"It never happened."

"Bullshit." He inched closer. "I will never forget that night…even if you choose to…"

"We were drunk and…"

He cut me off. "You told me you loved me, Kyouya-kun!" he yelled. A loud crack of thunder. Lightening. "You told me you loved me…"

I grabbed his shirt collar and twisted it, yanking him towards me. _Crack._ "SHUT UP!"

Eyes were welding, hot tears streaming down flushed cheeks. Heart breaking. "You told me you loved me…"

I violently slammed him against the passenger seat, reaching my leg over to gear shift to straddle him. My grip tightened, bringing him closer.

"You told me you loved me…"

I slammed him against the seat again. Another crack of thunder. Lightening. His tears were beginning to fall. I felt the bulge in my pants grow harder. I wanted to gag him with my cock.

"You told me you loved me…"

_Scream. Flashing lights. Sex_, The red-head in the club and Tamaki both began to suck. I grabbed for Tamaki, speaking unspoken truths against the music. "_She can't please you like I can…" _He could not hear me.

"_I love you, Rene"_

"I love you, Kyouya."

"SHUT UP!" Our lips crashed against one another. _Black_. "_I love that dirty bass"_

**A/N: I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing. I wanted to show a much deeper side of Kyouya that is rarely seen. Feel free to read, review, or what have you. Comments and suggestions are much appreciated. Thank you all for reading and I promise to update soon **

**Songs referenced: Artist: Far East Movement: Songs: 'Dirty Bass' and 'Live My Life' **

**SensuallyPassionate**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I have been inspired to write this story and update more frequently than I normally would. I am really enjoying this. Side note; I ran into this absolutely wonderful story by "MaggieDanger" titled: "Say what you mean, do what you say". Apparently, she tackled the same concept as I am but executed it in a different approach than what I have planned. I am highly impressed with the story and I encourage you all to check it out. I have been wanting to write a dark tale concerning Kyouya for a few years now but I took a two year hiatus from writing after entering college. In my absence, a similar work of fiction was produced. It was brought to my attention from a follower of mine who favorite the story. This is no way affiliated with any other works of fiction on this site. This is purely fan-made and come from my dark twisted fantasies. Upon my discovery of a similar story, I have decided to revamp my plot line a smidge to avoid confusion. Nonetheless, enjoy.**

**SensuallyPassionate**

**If I was your Boyfriend, "Fuck me, Please me, Touch me, Squeeze me."**

_**Zip**. Soft hands grabbed my shaky ones, leading me to a stained, red couch in the corner. The bass vibrating from the surround sound speakers encasing us in the basement deafened me. **Plop.** Tamaki straddled my waist, grinding against my still hardened cock. His sapphire-green cardigan was haphazardly buttoned, falling off his shoulders and exposing a sweat drenched undershirt against damp, peach-colored skin. I swallowed. Mouth dry, lips chapped from feverously kissing. **Fuck.** Buttons fly, skin becomes exposed as the music grows louder. Nervous hands fumble with his zipper and expose his awaiting cock, hard, throbbing. Lights go out. Music grows harsher. A mist begins to fall from overhead. **Like a G6**_

"_Kyouya-kun" he licks my earlobe. **Poppin' bottles in the ice, like a blizzard**. "T-this is wrong, ne?"_

_I moan. **Bite.** Tamaki leaves a love mark on my neck. There is small swelling. His rough toungue glides over it gently. His cock brushes up against my exposed chest. **Like a G6**_

"_Why is this wrong, Kyouya-kun?"_

_My breathing becomes ragged. I begin to softly stroke him, my palms becoming caressed with his pre-cum. **Squeeze.** Tamaki mewls in my ear. My name is spoken in both Japanese and French dialect as I stroke faster**. Hell yeah, drink it up.** _

"_K-kyouya-kun, onegai, ah-"_

_Lips smash against each other, damp locks intertwining as both sweat and water drip down our faces. Nails scrape against skin. I manage to speak. "She can't please me like you can?"_

_He moaned and pushed me deeper into the fabric of the sofa, beginning to grind harder against my aching sex. There was a silver tray beside us with scattered white pills. Sweaty fingertips reached for two. **Like a G6**. Tamaki tongued me one and swallowed the other. A kiss deeper than before, rough sex. I flipped Tamaki over. His legs became wrapped around my waist, his hands clinging around my neck. Pants were violently dragged off, boxers being thrown into deep darkness. I used thick droplets of pre-cum and saliva for lube. **Pleasure.** Whispers of "I love you"._

"Kyouya-senpai!"

I slammed into Hikaru one last time before I released. I watched silently as his cock twitched and tightened, stomach growing taut as he ejaculated onto his stomach and my bed sheets. It took me a moment to regain my breathing as I hovered over his limp body. Sweat dripped down my forehead and landed on his sticky torso. There was silence.

"That…T-that was better than last time; Ne, Kyouya-senpai, I really hope it feels like this with Kaoru."

I rolled my eyes and grunted, pulling my softening dick out of Hikaru. I removed the condom and placed it in the trash bin next to my bed. I felt Hikaru's sweaty hands begin to massage my chest, fingertips rubbing over my nipples, flicking. He kissed my neck gently. "Can I be honest with you, Kyouya-senpai?"

"You are going to tell me anyway whether I agree to it or not so what is it?"

He giggled. My fists clenched."I must admit, when I came to you to get out my frustrations about Kaoru, I was not expecting…_this_…."

An eyebrow rose. "Sex?"

He breathed into my ear, delicately kissing my weak spot. I grew hard. "No, falling in love with you." Then soft.

I turned to face Kaoru, face emotionless and cold. Love? "How can you love me, Hikaru? You know nothing about me other than what I allow you to see and my preferred sex position." I reached over and retrieved my glasses from my nightstand, using one of my eyeglass-cleaning cloths to dust the dirty oval lenses. "You are infatuated with the sex and with an orgasm automatically releasing endorphins that gives the feeling of "being in love" through some sort of emotional attachment, you actually are not."

Hikaru blinked. "I…am serious Kyouya-senpai." His face lowered, gaze meeting the damp bed sheet. He touched it slightly. "I can prove it to you. I don't know how just yet, but I can."

"What about Kaoru?"

He bit his bottom lip. "Things are getting messy. I love Kaoru but I am falling for you too."

"That is an unwise decision you are choosing to make on your behalf."

"How so?"

I sighed softly, moving to the edge of the bed to retrieve my boxers and lounge pants. Hikaru began to say something but I cut him off with the finger. Standing, I press a familiar small red button and grab the hidden bottle of vodka from under my mattress. My door slowly opened, revealing a maid with small, red eye mask covering her vision. They are quickly learning.

"You rang, Master Kyouya?"

"See to it Hitachiin, Hikaru gets home accordingly."

"Yes, Master Kyouya."

I retrieved my slippers. Where was my Ipod? "Clean this mess, restock my bedside drawer, and put out fresh linen."

"Hai!"

"K-kyouya-senpai!" Hikaru called out, desperate. My gaze never met his as he called out for me one last time.

"I will see you tomorrow, Hikaru."

I exit my bedroom, leisurely walking down the long corridor that leads from my room to the family study. I take a small swig of the bottle and reach for my cell phone.

_1 Missed Call- Rene_

I press redial.

"Moshi, Moshi?"

"You called?"

There was a thick veil of silence on the other end. I could hear Tamaki begin to sob softly. I remained silent, taking another deep gulp. I could feel that familiar warm, tingly feeling begin to course through my veins. I began to grow irate. "Tamaki…"

"….I'm leaving next week."

"To go where?"

"France."

I grew silent once more. _France_?

"France?"

"Yes."

I finally spoke after a few short minutes. "For how long?"

"The remainder of the school-year; I am planning on telling everyone this Saturday at our last Host Club session. I thought a nice theme of "Paris under the night-sky would seem appropriate." "

I entered my father's study and found myself making home into his brown, oversized office-chair. I removed an abandoned condom wrapper from his desk. "A bit sudden, ne?" I took a long drink from the half-way empty bottle. My throat burned. "Almost impulsive."

"I have been giving it some thought for the past few weeks."

"Tamaki…"

He cut me off. "I just wanted you to be the first to know since you are the one who _inspired_ me to go in the first place."

"I…inspired you…"

A quick breath. "You were right, Kyouya-kun. Maybe it is best we just forget that evening and move on. You made it clear this afternoon when you tossed me around like some rag doll during sex that I mean absolutely nothing."

_Nothing. _

"You got all that from rough sex?"

"It was not just rough sex, Kyouya!" he yelled. "There is something really wrong with you and you won't even let _me_ in."

"Tamaki…"

He continued. "Was it the night at the club? Did I offend you when I told you how I felt? When I dragged you away from that red-headed…_slut_? When we did "X" together?"

"Tamaki…" my voice served as a warning,

"Or was it the fact that you_ didn't _push me away? That you enjoyed every minute of it? That you _feel_ the same way about me as I do for you?"

_Nails scratching, hips thrusting, lips kissing, hands clenching, moans whispering, lovemaking, cum dripping_. _Flashing Lights._

I clenched my fists deeper, my nails beginning to dig into my skin. My pulse quickened and my breathing grew more ragged. My head began spinning. _Anger_. "Fuck…You."

There was a small gasp on the other line. "Kyouya…"

"Tamaki, consider this our parting goodbyes, ne?" Silence. "You decided on your own to go back to your mother country but fail to give an advance notice to anyone about your departure, including me. You leave in roughly three days and have the audacity to use the subtle inclination that I am the primary cause of you leaving?"

More silence. More anger.

"Answer me!"

"Kyouya-kun!"

I grasped the vodka bottle by its neck. Hard glass met the red kiss of the wall ten feet away. More broken glass hitting the marbleized floor, more sounds of breaking. My father's priceless antique vase mingled in with his crystal liquor set amongst the shattering pieces of anything and everything breakable. I growled, drawing blood from the palms of my hands as clenched fists met the smooth, cool hardness of the wall besides me. Another, then another, then another. Knuckles were now blood stained as four large dents stared before me, tauntingly. I could hear Tamaki screaming in French through the phone several feet away. More anger. Books became personal Frisbees as they were tossed across the room as priceless sculptures met outside pavement through an open window. I don't remember who or what grabbed me, but I felt force as I was subdued and held down as a sharp pain entered my right arm. I could see my sister's face as small tears streamed into a pure, white handkerchief.

"_She can't love you like I can_." _Black_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I love my reviewers! Thank you so much for reviewing and commenting! I do what I do for you all. Hope you Enjoy. **

**Je t'aime; "Dancing Bears, Painted Wings"**

_A hot kiss, burning against my tender, sensitive flesh; desire heightening as hands become restless. Blazers become undone as muffled advances grow fonder, stronger. Love. Hate. Passion. I gripped the sweet tendrils of his mane, pulling forcefully in an effort to have him grow closer, almost as one. The cool texture of the music room's marble floors run against my back, achingly. We move swiftly across the floor, absentmindedly bumping into the scattered arrangements of garden tables and vintage Florence chairs. Every movement we make is now indefinitely in sync. He exposes my chest as my dress shirt, school tie, and cufflinks make home several feet away with his pants, our shoes, and his boxers. Flushed cheeks grace his angelic face as his kiss deepened, wanting. Panting. Scratching. Biting. I grabbed his pulsating cock and began to stroke it gently, my very touch bringing him to tears. Eyes become glassy, coated with mixed emotions. I hold my breath. _

"_I hate you…Kyouya..ah.." he whispers in my ear as soft weeping begin to dampen my exposed shoulder. He buried his head in between my neck, suckling on my supple skin like a newborn. He nips lightly, leaving his notorious love mark. He silently claims me. "I detest you immensely."_

_I stroked faster, my tempo matching his as he began fumbling with my trousers. The single button flew sideways and rolled across the eternal wax kissed floors, landing somewhere near the grand piano and the cake table. Another soft sob. His rickety grasp now palming my painful erection, stroking. I remained silent._

"_I wish we never met…" he gripped tighter, my eyes closing shut. He was nearing. "I wish we never became friends…"_

_I let out a low growl as he bit harder against my neck, moving slowly to my flushed face to place a carnivorous kiss against my already bruised lips. I kissed back, tongues now in a dueling battle for dominance as sweaty hands jerk the other off. He comes violently, marking my hands and the edge of my blazer with his wet seed. _

"_I never want to see you again!" he screams as he breaks the kiss, coming down from his euphoric high. He grips me tighter, sending me over the edge. I spasm silently, streaks of white hitting his pelvis, dripping down onto golden, curly strands of hair nestled above his softening sex. "I never want to see you again…" he repeated._

_A single kiss was placed on my slightly swollen lips as more tears began to cascade onto my sweaty torso. They burned like fire. He collapsed in my arms and I held him, remaining silent. More sobs. Muffled curses. Fits of anger conjoined with sadness. Heartbreak. _

"_I never want to see you again…" he repeated once more. He grew mute as his body grew still, almost lifeless. He lifted his gaze to meet mine, violet eyes puffy and red from crying as dried, salty streaks of clear caressed his face. I placed a single hand upon his cheek, stroking lovingly with the bed of my thumb. He breathed in my scent and touched my hand, kissing it closer to the side of his face. Eyes grew heavy. Heart grew fonder. "…Je t'aime."_

_Je t'aime_

"Je t'aime!"

She convulsed against my lips, her thighs clenching my neck and shoulders as she screamed out against the empty loudness of her echo. Her regal nails brushed mercilessly against my dampened hair as they found solace behind my ears. She began to pull gently, arching her back, pushing her exposed sex against my dripping tongue, purring loudly. She recited my name like a mantra. A soft kiss was placed upon her engorged_ lips_, our eyes meeting. Her cheeks grew a shade of velvet as her legs became unwrapped around my neck. Thighs were trembling, head fell back against the softness of the down pillow, voice shaky and unsteady. I positioned myself in between her legs as I watched Hikaru begin to throat fuck the little whore. I began my pace, hands grasping her inner-thighs, fingers digging deeper inside her creamy, bronzed flesh. Faster. Harder. Muffled gags. Saliva trailing down her face every time she took a breath. Hikaru was a quick learner.

Slamming against her sex, the light smacking of damp skin against skin reverberating against the four walls. Her nails dug deep into the poor-quality sheets, gripping with authority. She began screaming every other breath. _**Blood**_. Deeper I explored until I hit familiar territory, stopping me. I bit my bottom lip and banged against the barrier, harder with each thrust. Screams of pleasure turned into loud shrieks of pain. Less gagging, more choking. She was the only one who could satiate my desires. Eyes fell closed, pace reaching its peak. The bed creaked louder with every thrust until it grew silent. I pulled out and silently ordered them both to begin lapping. Hikaru stroked gently as Renge began to swirl her tongue against my aching tip. I palmed their heads, bringing their awaiting faces to the stroke of my sword, marring their blind faces with streaks of cum. My eyes opened. I was done.

I watched Renge collapse on the bed sheets as Hikaru reached up to kiss me. I pushed him away and gave him a warning glance, he retreated quickly. I moved to the edge of the bed and retrieved my boxers, jeans, boots, and sweater. Behind me, I could hear Hikaru and Renge begin a round three. I stood, grabbing my glasses and pack of cigarettes from atop of the night stand. I took one of the spare room keys and left the room of the Love hotel. It was about thirty degrees outside and the snow had begun to pick up slightly since the moment we entered hours before. I took out a single stick and lit it, inhaling. Exhaling. Inhaling again. It had been almost two months since Tamaki left for France and left to go finish his second year at some upscale private fine arts academy. The day he left was the day I was released. I was sedated and detained in my family's private medical wing within the Ootori hospital. My sister had heard me from down the hall the evening I went…berserk in my father's study; throwing and breaking everything and anything within sight. It had gone on for at least five minutes before security had to hold me down and tranquilize me in order for me to keep steady. From what Fuyumi onii-san had told me when I had awoken, I had been sedated for about a day and was awaiting the family's psychiatrist to further evaluation and a clean bill of health before I was permanently released. My sister kept my outbreak between she and my brothers, not allowing father to hear of such an eruption of erratic behavior from his third born while conducting business in Russia with a colleague and enchanting another one of his mistresses. Fuyumi onii-san had stayed with me throughout the duration of my short visit while my two brothers simply called to inform me to keep my lapses of misjudgment to a minimum in order to avoid scandal in the Ootori name. The only thing my father was informed of was the minor damages to his study; quickly dismissing the short phone call with an order to fire the staff that was in charge of the wing during the night shift for their carelessness and to hire new ones by the next sun down.

I missed classes for the three days I had been admitted but managed to make it to Host Club hours to see him off and say our final farewells. Instead of being greeted with friendly faces, obnoxiously warm smiles, unwanted hugs from Honey-senpai and Hikaru-maybe Haruhi-, and the thousands of questions that would regard my absence from our clientèle, I was met with a sobbing Tamaki, a hard, stinging slap across my face, and immaculate Mozart. His fingers poetically ran over the glossed keys of the grand piano within the middle of the music room, reciting the classical tune, Fur Elise. Apparently, he had been waiting for me. He had canceled club that day and took the afternoon off for time to himself. I opened the heavy double-doors that lead into the music room and locked his gaze with mine. He stopped playing and rose, body still. I closed the doors behind and slowly made my way towards his apathetic form. As I got closer, I could see the tears begin to stream down his flushed cheeks and onto the pressed fabric of his blue blazer. We eyed each other for some time before Tamaki's calloused hand met my cheek. I remained silent as he began screaming in French, hiccupping after every other word. I realigned my frames and looked at him, beginning to speak.

"_Why!"_

"_Tamaki…"_

"_You insist on breaking my heart don't you!"_

_More stillness. More silence. I gulped. "Tamaki…"_

"_Your sister said you were hospitalized!" He took a few steps closer, faces practically touching. His arms were beginning to tremble at his side, hands curled into small fists. He began to pound on my chest. "Baka!"_

"_Tamaki…"_

"_Baka! Baka! Baka!" He sobbed more heavily, beating growing harder. I winced at the small pain but allowed him to release his frustration. "You scared me! Why do you do this to me!"_

_I grabbed Tamaki's wrists and pulled his frame towards mine, chests touching, lips almost kissing, fires igniting. "Tamaki…I…I…"_

"_Kyouya, stop doing this to me? To 'us'." He fell against me, causing us to fall to the floor. I began to say something ignorant, anger rushing over me at the sudden ounce of pain but it quickly subsided at the sight of Tamaki; pounding away at the floor as scolding tears rushed down his face. "Even if you won't be man enough to admit this, I know you have the same feelings for me as I do for you. It's not like I expected for us to run off into the sunset, but it doesn't hurt a soul to dream, does it?"_

_I swallowed hard. I wanted to speak the unspoken truths my tongue dared not say, but I could not bring myself to. I felt my heart begin to hurt. Was it really going to end like this?_

_He looked at me. "With our family's social status, being...a unique couple would not pan over well, but I cannot help how I feel for you." He paused, head lowering, allowing those golden strands of hair I have grown to adore to veil him of his shame. "I never considered myself…homosexual. I always identified myself as bisexual but I never thought I would fall in love with a male…my best friend at that." _

_The word 'best friend' dripped off his lips like warm honey. "Tamaki…you do not have to explain yourself to me."_

"_I know." He grew quiet once more. "But it's something I think you need to hear…especially since I will be leaving for France in less than seventeen hours."_

_I grew silent. There were so many questions, thoughts coursing through my mind that my heart would dare not allow me to ask. Could I really going to allow the one person I genuinely cared for…loved...slip away? I never identified myself as bisexual, straight, or homosexual. I was always simply attracted to beauty and sex appeal. My upbringing was based on exploiting a person's merits, not their personal attributes. Finding a person that fulfilled me…entirely…who happened to be a man…did that make me somewhat homosexual? I found myself lusting over both men and women before I met Tamaki. Was I bisexual? I caught myself favoring the taste and feel of a hard penis rather than a vagina. Did that make me completely homosexual? Was not particularly caring for either sex categorizing me as asexual? I felt myself begin to grow angry. "Tamaki, I just came by to wish you safe travels."_

_I began to stand when he gripped my leg, halting me. I grew more and more irritated. "Kyouya…"_

"_Let go of me, Tamaki." I warned. Red. Hate. Fire. I clenched my fists together at the very thought of seeing Tamaki and I that night. The sex. The drugs. The pleasure. My confession._

"_You can't keep running away like this!"_

"_Tamaki…"_

"_Why even admit your feelings for me if you aren't going to act on them? Why put my heart through so much agony?"_

"_Tamaki…"_

"_Why even come and say goodbye to me if you are just going to be another bastard to abandon me!" he paused, his grip loosening against my pant leg. "…You are everything you hoped you would never become. You truly are your father's son."_

_**Snap. **I felt myself wrap both hands around the blonde's neck. Wide-eyes looked at me with pure terror as soft hands violently grabbed my own, desperately trying to pry them off the swelling, hot skin. **Red.** I banged his head roughly against the marbleized floor of the music room, straddling him. He began to choke, the color of his rosy cheeks now fleeing his face as it patiently turned a shade a blue.** Anger.** His legs licked angrily against the shadows, desperately trying to fight against my weight. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly, resembling a fish out of water. I mentally screamed let go but my hands wouldn't let me. **Regret.** He stopped kicking and slowly began to weaken. Eyes began to roll to the back of his head, hands falling limp to his sides. I released him. He gasped for air._

_I stood to leave before hearing the soft cries of Tamaki behind me. My back was now facing him, a single tear beginning to run down my face. I could have killed him…_

"…_Does my pain bring you that much pleasure, Kyouya?" I began making my way to the door, his soft whimpering turning into horrific, blood-curling screaming. "DOES IT!"_

_I turned to face him. Stoic "Tamaki…"_

"_You are a sick bastard Ootori, Kyouya! Sick, twisted, BASTARD!" he slowly stood, eyes filled with a foreign emotion…**hate**. "You are too fucked up in the head to realize what you are doing to people, to yourself!" _

_I released the door handles and stood before him. Intimidation. He ran towards me, pressing me against the wooden doors of the music room. Hands became twisted within my dress shirt, tie whirling around his index and middle fingers. I kept my composure as he began to lift me slightly from the floor. "Is this what you wanted!" He slammed me against the doors again. Again. My back bruising. "Did you want to see me break!"_

"_Tamaki!" I roared. He slammed me against the doors one last time before releasing me. My breathing quickened and my pulse raced. I watched the malice within his eyes simmer to mere pain. "Enough!"_

"_You started this!"_

"_We were fucking drunk, Rene!" we became face to face. Fists clenched as bodies racked in anger. "We were high of fucking ecstasy!"_

"_Tell me right now you meant nothing of what you said."_

"_You know I-"  
_

"_TELL ME!" he repeated, this time with more anger than before. "If you can look me in my face and tell me that the truths you spoke that night were nothing but false emotions of pleasure, I will let you walk away."_

"_If I refuse to answer?"_

"_Consider me dead to you." There was an air of finality within his voice that made my heart quiver. I stared off at him with matched intensity before grabbing his tie and placing a hard kiss against lips. He resisted but complied. Desired it, but withheld. I snaked my tongue into his mouth, his moans now enticing me to go forward. Familiar tears began to fall and land on my fists as his hands made their way into my onyx hair, pulling. We fell to the floor, my hands beginning to fumble with his pants zipper, gripping his confined, hard cock. He moaned, tears pacing harder as his heart began to slowly shatter. **Fur Elise**. _

"_Kyouya…"_

"_Rene, don't speak."_

Rough, passionate sex followed suit, even after he and I both tried to kill each other. He left later that evening and I have not seen him since. We do not speak via telephone anymore, but instead letters. He admitted that when he said he did not want to hear my voice again, it remained true. Calling me would only bring back unwanted emotions and turmoil so retreating to pen and paper proved to be the latter option. For the past two months, he and I have engaged in countless of weekly letters ranging from nonchalant conversation to cryptic love notes that spoke the hidden truth in which our hearts could not. I resorted to fucking Renge to remind me of him since Hikaru was becoming too much involved emotionally. Nights like tonight I would invite him around to keep things interesting but I initiated distance between us with his growing fondness of the heart. Renge was helpless in love with me before and after the sex, so it proved to play in my favor. Whenever I would toss her or Hikaru around within my bed sheets, I would envision Tamaki, moaning, screaming my name as I pounded against his prostate. Renge was French and spoke the dialect fluently; so whenever she would recite erotic nothings into my ear during sex, it would only heighten my desire and aggression. I thought of no one other than Tamaki when I fucked the countless of women and men each week. Every night, someone new was in my bed, screaming and moaning my name into the night. Hikaru provided consistency, Renge provided the memory. However, they could not replace the originality of Tamaki…my Rene.

His latest letter was to wish me a Happy Birthday and to tell me how he may be staying indefinitely in France; only coming to Japan to visit from time to time. It seemed better this way. It would allow our feelings to ebb. Gazing out onto the freshly fallen snow, I took one last drag before extinguishing my cigarette against the concrete floor with my boot. I pulled the neck of my sweater closer to my chilled skin and watched the flakes dance gracefully. I watched a few horse drawn carriages prance delicately through the silver storm and into the streets, happy couples, smiling in the back seats as they held each other for warmth. I envisioned the night Tamaki and I first kissed, a night similar to this one. It was right before Christmas break. Before a warm fire we lay, snuggled deep within the mink throw he had brought from home. I was initially innocent but became lustful…desirable. It was when the feelings first began to become less than…friendly. _**Nostalgia**__._ _Things my heart yearns to remember. _ I retrieved the letter from my back pocket, glancing over it briefly before allowing it to dance off into the wind.

_Once upon a December_.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers and fans of this little fantasy of mine. I was going to leave it as is but I figured I would tie a few loose ends. Thank you again for reading and I plan to make another but with less…aghast you may say. Until then, Enjoy my dark twisted fantasies.**

**-SensuallyPassionate**

"**A Thousand Years"; "How can I love when I'm afraid?"**

**Epilogue **

His _latest_ letter was about a woman, named Margaret. She was the daughter of a wealthy business executive his father did business with. She was of was French and Cambodian decent if I recall correctly from Rene's poorly written letter and spoke five different languages fluently. That _bitch_. She and Rene have been dating for a few months as of recently and I was the first of many who would get the sudden news of a spring wedding in Île de la Cité in a Roman catholic chapel. It would be intimate; very private or only close relatives and friends. I would not be attending the wedding; even though it was expressed dearly that my presence would be the highlight of the evening. Weddings disgusted me and have proven to be unnecessary. Money wasted on a false union that would only be tarnished by the sins of adultery would shatter the very holiness of which it rested upon. I lit a cigarette and kept walking along the cobblestone pathway.

It was late winter and the snow was beginning to let up. The small nipping at my nose irritated me, the scarf around my neck wringing around like a collar. I blew a cloud of smoke into the gusty winds of Paris. It was close to midnight and I was alone near canal St. Martin. There were a few tourists passing by snapping pictures, giggling in delight in being in a foreign country. It sickened me to the core. Their happy faces. The smiles. The laughter as it swept through like an airborne virus into the lungs of small children. I resented their pitiful vacation in one of the coldest cities during the winter months. I pulled my leather coat closer, the warmth hugging my thin frame. I blew another cloud against the cool, desolate waters of St. Martin. I watched small flakes prance around similar to a ballet dancer's rendition of _Swan_ _Lake. _It moved quickly with the wind. I blew another for good measure, small entertainment.

There was a small tap on my shoulder. Violet eyes. Small smile. Burberry. I extinguished the cigarette against the heel of my boot in silence, starting to walk to wherever he was taking me. There were very few cafes open at this time of night in Paris, no place for us to finally talk after the past few months of settling for pen and paper. I did not want traces of me dialing _his_ cellular number in my records. He still looked the same, only happier. The wool hat that kissed his blonde hair. The wool jacket that skinned his slender, silhouette. That damn scarf I had sent him for Christmas. It all screamed happiness. It sickened me, making me want to tear them off his body and set him on fire. I remained quiet, keeping my mind astray from the obvious. There still were no words to be spoken. He lead me to a quiet, little house nearby next so a family-owned bakery shop. It was his and _hers_. She was sleeping over at her mother's as a tradition before the wedding. He removed his coat and hung it neatly on the rack next to the door. I followed. A cold, soft hand grabbed mine and led me around the house. It was quaint, but tasteful. It was small for my taste, but large enough for a newlywed couple. A fire was going in the den, reminding me of that night. He had offered me some tea and a few pastries but I refused. Another wave of silence. A small kiss.

His hands led me to the bedroom where a large bed rested amongst yet another fire. It was warmer in this room and felt a bit more personal. Rene shed himself of his cashmere sweater, I doing the same. Our tongues intertwined, lips touching, kissing. Hands roamed silk, grabbing onto belt buckles. His pants were now tossed in a nearby corner, mine becoming slinked off with teeth. There was soft nipping against the protruding bulge of my boxers, kissing. Soft. Wet. His blonde tresses became enveloped into my grasp, my head tilted back towards the painted ceiling cloaked in night. There were cherubs, clouds, Roman Gods in colored oils. Each one outdid the other, in symphony with his strokes. His tongue swirled around the head for a bit before he swallowed me whole. His warmth rivaled the veil from the fire. I returned the favor, wishing this would not be the last time. His toes curled. Eyes squeezed shut. Nails imprinted within fibers of Egyptian cotton. _Fuck_. I outdid myself, trails of saliva mixed with his semen coating my lips. A brisk kiss following.

His muffled cries were spoken into the feathered pillow. Sweat dripped off my brow as it fell onto the curve of his back. My strokes grew stronger. Faster. Deeper. My name was being called. Erotic nothings in French thrown into the early morning air. I pounded into Rene, again, and again, and again. His orgasm hit hard and soiled the bed sheets. I pulled out from inside of my beloved and commanded his attention. Streaks of white glazed across his face, a single pink tongue lapping the single trail conjoining the two of us. I collapsed. Slumber hit hard that night and the aroma of fresh ground coffee stirred me in the morning. Two hours of sleep was all I was able to get before I was forced to shower and dress. My flight was scheduled to leave in forty-five minutes. His eyes filled with sadness, a final kiss as he dressed to see me to the car that was patiently waiting to take me to the airport. I had morning coffee with him before I left, knowing it would be the last. I arrived at the terminal and prepared to board. I took out Rene's letter and gave it one last glance. Tamaki would be upset if I told him I came to Paris and did not drop by his villa to say hello. I could not bear the thought of seeing him after the evening I had with Rene, Rene Fontaine. He was a Frenchman I had met over Thanksgiving break during a business trip with my father. He resembled Tamaki to the point where I grabbed him by mistake in a fit of rage, having to release him in an honest mistake. I immediately dropped Hikaru and Renge and replaced them with Rene Fontaine, all my desires becoming wrapped into the only thing close enough to the actual figment of my infatuation; the **_real_** Rene. He was also engaged to be married.

I let a single tear drop as I tossed the letter in the trash bin on the way to board the plane back to Tokyo, Japan. I stopped replying to Tamaki's letters almost two months ago after he told me his engagement but he insisted on continuing to write; even without a response. The closure of his last letter was the three words left unspoken_: I Love You_. I whispered those same three words into the cool air of early morning Paris, leaving them and my insatiable desires behind.

_I Love You_.


End file.
